We received excellent offers from several charming clients. After review, our decision now lies between two buyers. You are both perfect for our house. I know you’re at max cash offers and, due to the competitive housing market, waved every single health official recommended inspection. Since you’re both equally qualified (same exact credit scores even!) and made such great impressions, we created the perfect resolution.
Please consider this letter your personal invitation to duel to the death for our home.
In case you never watched Hamilton (so worth the ticket prices, by the way!), here is the definition of a duel: A formal fight involving swords or guns that settles an argument. The argument in question here being who deserves this house. Although duels don’t require one party to die, that is the most concrete way to secure this property. Who would want to injure, whether permanently or not, another person and then have them sue them in court for the house they justly won? That’s why one party taking the life of the other is an important factor in this decision process.
Now, I know the first concern popping into your mind: fairness. We’re flattening the grass, so there are no environmental disadvantages or advantages to either party. We’ll enforce basic duel-to-death etiquette, which basically seems to mean making sure one party dies (Hamilton is available on Disney+, by the way).
A novel approach, I know! We like to think of ourselves as trendsetters, I’m sure you noticed our numerous paper flowers—they are made from recycled materials. We may not have green thumbs, but we still live green. Isn’t that joke adorable? My wife thought of it.
The event will start at noon sharp on the first Saturday of next month. We attend weekly Sunday church service (new members are always welcome!), so the day of rest is unavailable. Feel free to bring friends and family (We ask that you limit guests to ten people). We’ll have a cookout and make a day of it (please notify us of any food allergies).
We own several lawn chairs, do not worry about seating. As you know, our beautiful backyard is spacious enough for at least one hundred guests. However, weapons are not provided and are your responsibility. We are pacifists, the only weapons we use are hugs and respect for differences in opinion.
As far as clothing goes, casual dress is recommended, something you don’t mind covering in blood and that allows quick bodily movement. I’m not sure how duels were ever finished when gentleman needed to turn in stuffy Penni coats.
Anyone who wants to take a dip in the pool should bring swimsuits. Don’t forget suntan lotion. The summer sun is no jokester. If you’re alive, a sunburn is still painful.
During those steps taken before you kill or die, we suggest thinking happy thoughts about the next twenty years filled with clawfoot tub steam baths. Or our new wooden floors (freshly steamed and polished, by the way!).
Once the duel completes, we will observe a moment of silence for the dearly departed before serving dessert and signing papers.
Attached to this letter, you will find a waiver form created by our lawyer. The language may seem complex, but the general gist is that this just prevents us from legal ramifications from your possible death. We invited a notary to this party, so no need to pay for one yourself. You’re our guests, we’ll handle all the legal nitty-gritty. However, we do recommend that you verify your health insurance is intact. Our family prays for financial stability for all, including the duel loser’s surviving family.
Also, please remember your $30 secondary application fee. We’ll collect that upon your arrival.
Looking forward to our lovely day together!